Never Too Late
by xxBurningxx
Summary: To say that she didn't think about him is the worst of lies, because if anything where the truth is needed, everyday hits closer to home.


**Story Note: Set after "Promise of Reunion". Fluffy, I guess. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ib in any way, shape, or form. I don't make any profit from this story, as it is for entertainment only~**

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**Never Too Late**

**by. **_xxBurningxx_

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"Ib, honey, where is your handkerchief? You didn't lose it back there in the gallery or anything, did you?"

She says nothing. Lies are the most obvious choice of words, but Ib herself knows that it's futile. Mama would find out in the long-run anyway. She feels inside her pocket, and the lack of smooth cloth once again reminds her of the prized handkerchief that had left her hands and leapt into another's. Instead, the crisp feel of a wrapper instantly reminds her of the uneaten lemon candy, and another pang of loneliness hits her heart. No one would share the experience of Guertena's mysterious gallery except for herself and one other person. But he's gone now, and although the promise of meeting again rings clear in her mind, there was no way of knowing when that day would come.

"Ib, are you listening to me?"

Her mother looks over her shoulder, at Ib, whom is in the backseat looking at something. From her angle, she can't quite see what it is, so she returns her eyes to the road and patiently waits for an answer. She has to remind herself that she can't be short with a child, because they're always doing things and their minds are constantly running.

"I don't have my handkerchief,"

Normally, when a child realizes that they've lost something, there is usually a short period of shock, and when they realize that what's lost usually can't be returned, they fall into a fit of sadness and tears. However, when Ib tells her mother of the lost prized possession, as far as her mother can detect, there is only a faint trace of satisfaction. That is all.

And yet, the instant the words are out of her mouth, Ib cringes. Bad idea. It doesn't take a ten year old to realize her mother is royally pissed, and Ib is starting to think that lying might have been a better idea. Or at least, waiting until her mama wasn't driving, because if there's one thing Ib's already learned, it's that being in a car with an upset driving can be distressing. She kicks her shoes together nervously, and finds herself biting at her nails, bracing herself for whatever her mother has to say.

"What did you do with it Ib? Did you leave it in the gallery? I thought I told you very clearly before we even stepped in the door to make sure to look after it! Do you know how expensive material like that is, Ib? You don't even want to know!" her mother snaps, gripping the steering wheel in a deadly grip.

Ib looks down, and suddenly the floor of the car is very interesting. She's silent, but eventually the intense atmosphere is a bit too much, and she swears she can feel the anger radiated off her mother. Ib, ever since she was very young, has never liked being in a place where there is tension, so it doesn't take long for her to 'fess up. She mumbles though, because she's not sure of how her mother will react.

"What was that?" her mother snaps, with a tone of annoyance and frustration, and Ib flinches, but quickly regains her posture (if there is any for a ten-year old).

"I said, Mama, that you shouldn't worry...Because the person I gave it to promised to return it!"

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Where does the time go? Ib doesn't even know. Somehow, seven years have managed to fly their way by, and still has she not heard a word from the man that she longs to see again. It's not like she really expects to anytime soon though. She hadn't even given him her last name before she left that fateful day. Still, the fact that each day is one filled with anticipation does not change. Still, it does not quit her from wondering about what will happen when she sees him again. The idea is a phantom ghost lingering around in the back of her head each and every day.

She tidies herself up, and is ready to leave for yet another day of school. It's strange to her, that her everyday uniform is still so similar as it was back then. White, with a red skirt and lacy tie, that accompany her ruby eyes wonderfully. Plain and simple; just her style. Her hair is still the same too, maybe a little longer, but usually she gets it trimmed on a tri-monthly basis. The only thing truly different is that she's grown out of a child's body and into that of a young adult's.

Right before leaving her room, her eyes catch on the one of the shelves next to the door. Resting at the top of it is a small piece of lemon flavored candy.

She stares at it for what is a lifetime, and then closes her eyes.

She holds onto the thought of seeing him again, and it is enough to brace her for whatever it is that comes her way during the day.

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Ib hates homework. It's frustrating and annoying. The problem isn't that it's hard, no not at all. The problem really, is that it's too easy, at least for her anyway. It's a hassle if anything, and she feels like it's all very unnecessary. What's the point? Her teachers already give them enough paperwork in school, why more afterwards? It only takes her about ten minutes at most, but still, that's ten minutes of her life wasted, if you ask her. Ib scribbles down answers, and right before she's going to write down the answer to the final question, a chime jars her out of her thoughts, making her lost her focus.

The doorbell.

She ignores it, because she knows her mother will get to it. She hopes it's her package that she ordered who knows how long ago, but before she can start thinking about that, she tries to remember what she was going to write. The moment she remembers what she'd been thinking about before, her mother calls out to her, ripping the answer straight from her mind again.

"Ib, it's for you!"

Slightly irritated, she stands up and tosses the pencil down onto the desk. She tells herself that she'll finish it after she deals with whatever her mother needs her for.

"Che, figures that it's for me," she mumbles under her breath with a hint of exasperation. She exits her room and starts down the stairs, "Is it my pack-" The words die off her tongue. Her fast pace down the stair slows, and eventually comes to a halt just a few steps from the bottom. Her eyes are met with silver hair, and a scraggly coat, and all she can do is stare.

"Ib, honey, this young man says he's a friend of yours, but I wasn't sure..." her mother tells her skeptically, eying the stranger suspiciously, but Ib isn't listening to her mother, but rather gaping at the man standing next to her.

"G-Garry...?" she mumbles, and stares at him. His hair still has those dark little pieces at the top, and his coat is still scruffy, and he doesn't look like he's aged a day, even though that's physically impossible. Everything; her heart is beating a hundred miles an hour, and she swears that someone's going to hear it.

The faintest of smiles crosses and he nods. He opens his mouth to say something, but she cuts him off.

"_Garry!" _And suddenly he's thrown off balance because she's embracing him in a death-tight hug. He returns the embrace and closes his eyes. A constant stream of thoughts race in her head, and she can't sort out what's what, except for the fact that Garry's right there, after not seeing him for so long and there in person. She looks up at him and she can feel the tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill, but she grins anyway. She can't believe this. For a moment, she's terrified that it's a dream, and that she'll wake up, but then pushes the idea aside and hugs Garry even closer, making sure that it's real, and not fake.

"Ib...Ah. Tracking you down wasn't an easy task, but not impossible, seeing as I'm here now."

She steps away from him, because her mother is standing no more than a few feet away, and she doesn't want to make things awkward. That, along with the fact that Ib's mother has no clue who Garry even is. In her eyes, her daughter is jumping at the sight of a stranger, which is strange enough as it is. Ib's mother makes it a point to get to know all of her friends, because she's over-protective, and will only allow her daughter to be friends with those with a good heart, so naturally, she is alarmed at the sight.

"Wait, wait, wait, Ib! Who is this? What's going on?" she asks frantically.

Ib looks over at her mom, and mumbles an answer under her breath. "He's a friend...I met along time ago." Ib shakes her head, and disregards her mother, her mind still trying to comprehend the fact that Garry is in front of her, there in person, and-she just can't. After so many years, she'd almost come to think she actually wouldn't see him again.

"Oh! Ib, I can't allow myself to forget," he interrupts, and pulls something out of his pocket. It's a silky square of cloth, white as the milk puzzle he pointed out to her all those years ago. He holds it out to her, and she takes it, and stares at it. She runs her finger over the embroidered patch with her name in the lower corner, and the slightest ghost of a smile crosses her lips. Garry doesn't brake a promise, no. He did as he said he would; cleaned up the handkerchief, and now here he is, returning it.

And then before she can stop it, tears are flooding down her face. She can't even attempt to sort out what her heart is doing to her, and she finds herself hugging him again.

"Garry, you can't leave me again!" she yells into his chest, "Not now, and not ever..."

"Don't worry, Ib. Leaving you again hasn't even crossed my mind," he tells her, running his hand down her hair. It sends a pang of pain to his heart, seeing her crying over him, so he wills her to stop. He had spent so long thinking about her, about whether she was able to continue her life without too many thoughts lingering on the monsters they faced. The gallery they went through together was definitely on place for children, and he's still upset that a child, as young as she was then, had to go through it. Although, he's also thankful in a weird and twisted way, because if it weren't for it, he would have never even met Ib, and that idea alone is enough to make his heart hurt.

"Ib! Who the hell-" her mother cries out. Usually, she wouldn't have even let someone with the looks of Garry inside her house, but he seemed quite persistent that Ib would like to see him, so she relented, and now this is happening, right in front of her.

"Please, ma'am, if you'd excuse us. Don't worry, I'm a good friend of Ib's, and I won't harm you daughter in any way," Garry tells her, and finally, she backs off, figuring she isn't going to get any answers while Ib is in a fit of sniffles. She leaves, and the two of them are alone in the living room of Ib's house. "Come on," he mutters, bringing Ib over to the couch. They sit down, and Ib sniffs.

"Ib...?"

She wipes away her tears and leans into him, but doesn't say anything. She can't help herself; she finds herself snuggling up into his chest, and he laughs. She sighs, "God, Garry, I missed you so much! And it's crazy because we only knew each other for a day, and I was so young..."

He nods, and replies with a short, "Mhmm. It's strange, because over the years, I felt exactly the same. Every day I would wonder if you were alright and coping with what we saw that day. How _did _you cope? Were you okay afterwards, were there nightmares?"

His concern makes her heart beat a little faster and she smiles, "I was fine. It didn't faze me too much, because I mean, we got out of there, right? I guess, I figured that I was alive, and you were alive, and that was enough to comfort me...But I did have nightmares. A lot of them, actually. I even have a few every now and then when I start thinking about it again. But you're here now! I mean it Garry, I forbid you to leave me again!"

He laughs and says, "That's good. I'm glad it didn't shake you up too bad. Really, no one should have to go through that world...I wonder if there are any other's who have been in it. I hope not..."

And then Ib starts giggling.

"What?" he asks, "Why are you laughing?"

"I'm just remember how you were such a scardy-cat!"

"Hey! I was _not_ a scardy-cat! It's just, when stuff jumps out, I don't like it..." he mumbles, and when she looks up at him, there's a clear blush on his cheeks. He looks away in embarrassment and t only makes her giggle some more.

She sighs, and suddenly everything seems okay. All those years of waiting for him, every burden she's ever dealt with. It seems like nothing, because in this moment, she's happy. She could spend eternity right here, snuggled up next to Garry, if she were offered the option. She looks at the hankercheif again, and silently thanks it, even though sending gestures to an inanimate object isn't very common...But then again, worlds behind paintings that contain all kinds of scary thing aren't very common either.

She thanks the hankercheif, because, if it weren't for it, she wouldn't be her in Garry's arm, and that has to count for something, right?

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**A/N: Hi guys!~ Thanks a bunch for reading. This is my first story for the Ib fandom, so...Hopefully it's not too bad! I'm writing this at 3AM in the morning, so hopefully I'm still awake enough to know what I'm doing, haha~**

**Again, thank you for reading. It means everything to an author. Also, favorites/following/reviews are all very very very much appreciated. I don't expect too much traffic for this once, since Ib isn't exactly a huge fandom, but well, you know, that makes a single review all that more valuable and meaningful to me. Hearing what you think about the story is what inspires me to keep writing! **

**Anyways, thank you~**


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